And the World Came Crashing Down
by Deep or Shallow
Summary: AU OOC Shizaya. Setting: present day city /I was thinking the Chicago area/. Plot: Shizuo is a gardener falsely accused of murder, Izaya is a lawyer who falls in love with him, vows to get him out of Death row. This fic is ideal if your brain is fried from too much thinking and you want to read something simple and rather silly to relax.
1. Part 1

**A/N: Hey guys! This story is just a vent for me in the graduation stress. I wrote it while studying for the exam, it took about 4 days on and off since the end of August. Now I'm waiting for the results. D': Kinda scared. Oh and please ignore the fact that I put Death row prisoners into the same facility as other prisoners and other bad mistakes. /shot So please, don't take this long drabble too seriously, it was just stress relief. But I do hope you enjoy it despite the many imperfections! :)**

**I do not own these characters.**

A dreary, foggy morning greeted Izaya as he opened the front door and went to the car. It was the perfect bad day and he would've loved to crawl back into a bed and sleep it through. Not that he didn't have anything to look forward to, he just had a few unpleasant and less downright nasty things to deal with and get over. A week ago, he found out that his lover of 2 years, the man he thought he loved, had been cheating on him without a speck of shame. They broke up immediately, this was just too much. That bastard even had the disrespect and vulgarity to declare that one of the people he had been sleeping with was the love of his life and that they were getting married. _'Has he no shame?!' _Izaya thought bitterly. He was doing his best to get over it, but after all, 2 years are not easily forgotten. He got to the office in a better mood though, listening to sad songs in the car never failed to cheer him up somehow.

How could this happen? A man cannot take a life without paying the tithe to hell.

"Good morning!" he smiled at the secretary. He was an aging man with a kind word for everyone who treated him the same. "How are you doing, Orihara? You eatin' better?" He also seemed to know everything, including Izaya's bad break-up and that he wasn't taking it well. "Haha, thanks, I'm doing my best." He really was trying. The first days after were hell, but he was crawling out with his well-known determination. His determination and confidence were also the reason why he was taking this so badly. Orihara Izaya always got what he wanted. And suddenly, things weren't going according to plan. He was barely eating and had to take the first two days off, but he was getting better by pretending to have healed already. He had spent a few sleepless nights thinking and decided that concentrating on work would be the best thing to do right now.

I can't see the moon from here. Roses can't grow in the cold darkness of concrete.

The morning hours were spent in a frenzy of clients, paperwork and a lot of green tea to keep warm. It was early February and though the city rarely saw snow, the chilly winter fog was like a blanket that wouldn't leave till the April showers rode in on gray clouds. He and a few colleagues had made a habit of going to lunch in the cafeteria in the adjoined building together for some law-related humor and news on interesting cases in court. Today, the talk at their table was about a homicide case. The murderer kept denying his involvement, even though the evidence was clear. No insanity plea or bargains, he just 'didn't do it.' This interested Izaya, just the absurdity of it all and determination of the killer. He had eaten some of the rice and barely touched the meat, but he was listening to the talk with his head resting on his chin, deep in thought. "The lawyer representing him must be having a hell of a time," he noted with sarcasm. "But has anyone thought about the fact that maybe that guy is so determined because he really is innocent?" He sipped his tea as his colleagues denied this, saying that it was impossible with his fingerprints on the weapon and all. "Let's play detective. What was the motive?" his eyes sparkled mischievously like they hadn't in a long time. "Was the family rich? Was he having an affair with the wife?" Nobody really knew much for sure, so they parted ways, waving it off as a life sentence or the electric chair. However, it had piqued Izaya's interest and he decided to read more about this person, Heiwajima Shizuo, to distract himself from his own worries. Capital punishment was an interesting verdict for someone who kept denying having anything to do with the kill. Maybe justice had once again tripped and stumbled here. You see it every day as a lawyer.

Nobody pays attention to what I say. I miss the sun and soil. Oh freedom!

He had an hour gap between meetings so he set about it right away. It turned out that the one representing the defendant was from the same firm, a colleague of a colleague. He coaxed a copy of the file out of the woman sitting in the archive with puppy eyes and natural charm and boiled himself a new kettle of tea for this_. 'The client continues to deny the homicide of the Derron family, yadda yadda.'_ He flipped the page and saw the complete police profile of Heiwajima Shizuo. Shizuo. Hmmm... There was even a photo to accompany the name and Izaya had to admit – he was a looker. Strong, toned figure, bleached hair and fear mixed with uncertainty in his eyes_. 'Too bad he's a murderer, tsk tsk. Exactly my type, except he'll be sitting on Death row by now.'_ This curiosity grew as he learned the handsome blonde was the deceased family's gardener. An examination of the house and garden proved that Mr. Derron was a passionate collector of bonsai trees and all kinds of roses, or so said the report. Complete with fruit trees and a perfectly trimmed hedge row and lawn, it really must have been a full-time job for one person. Back to the gardener. He has a history of violence. _'Isn't that awful specific?'_ Izaya thought, wishing the idiot who put this together to learn to write more helpfully for the reader. Maybe it was the face, but he couldn't picture the golden-brown eyed man killing his employer and his family with hedge trimmers. And from what he read, he learned nothing about him. No interrogating officer asked the important questions. Were you having an affair with Mrs. Derron? What does 'a history of violence' mean? What was your relationship with each family member? Any neighbors with grudges? He sighed. The clock ticked away mercifully; Izaya had to take the file home. The meetings, decisions and paperwork took up all the time he had at work. He smiled in his tired state. It felt good to be buried in work rather than sorrow.

I can't get out alive. Now, every minute is precious. But I cannot live for the precious moment.

When his lover left him, his appetite left with him. He didn't make home-cooked meals anymore, it was a form of punishing himself. For believing the stories. For foolishly trusting, for falling in love. He took a bowl of milk and cereal to the TV and turned on the news. They were reporting on said case. _'Oooh, the terrible murderer. Kill me please.'_ Only when the news anchor said it did he realize the joke. "It's always the gardener, isn't it?" he muttered, the cereal crunching between his teeth. Before going to bed, Orihara Izaya looked up a few not-so-fresh news articles on the case. All he found out was that Heiwajima Shizuo was 2 years older than himself. "Twenty nine years old." He said aloud, helping himself memorize the number. He was 27, the youngest addition to the team. But as he promised in the job interview, he was worth it and proved it within months. His sharp wits and a way with words not only made him good at his job, but also the topic of whispers and the cause of blushes among the female employees. "Too bad he's gay," they would nod to each other with regret_. 'I'm a lawyer and he's a gardener,'_ he mused. Their lives were very different, but why was he so interested? Well, his concern was harmless, he decided and bundled himself up in the blanket, yawning. He dozed off in minutes; it had been a while since he was able to sleep the whole night.

My situation is more hopeless with time. Somehow, I doubt I'm the heroic type who can endure every trial with endless courage and valor.

The next day at work he found the lawyer representing the object of his interest and talked to him about it, hiding his emotional involvement under an expressionless facade. It was then that an idea sprouted in his mind - he could go visit this curious person. Once he thought of it, it was clear that it had to be done. To satisfy his curiosity, to hear Shizuo's part of the story... Sometime between morning and noon, he started calling the man by his first name, but only in his head, of course. It was like one of the many stories he was entranced by. Izaya had made it a hobby – collecting interesting tales (not only from court) and retelling them. This one would have fit nicely into his collection, except it was far from finished. And he would watch expectantly till the end.

The cold dampness of this place will get under your skin, seep into your veins. Take away your sanity and quietly laugh at you in the liquid darkness of midnight.

It was late Saturday morning. Normally, Izaya and his ex would have been out on a short trip to the countryside or had tickets to a play. Today Izaya was alone, but with an exciting plan and driving to a high-security prison to meet a convicted murderer. He was excited, his previous emotional pain briefly obscured by all these new happenings. It was almost a 3 hour drive into the lonely wilderness. Out here it snowed and forests were completely hidden under a comforting sheet of blinding white. The road looked like a black scar in this scene. The brunette had never travelled this road before and it was truly a sight. He even saw a few deer in a field not too far away. When he stopped at a solitary gas station, he noticed that the temperature had fallen and clouds had gathered. Before he could say Mississippi, it started snowing.

I can't live like this. The waiting itself is killing me. I feel like a flower, withering away and disappearing into the earth. The flower will return in the spring if the frost is merciful. I will not.

Nature was showcasing the cruel beauty of the season. He checked the time. Three in the afternoon. He was expected at the gates before 4pm when he was to meet the prisoner. He had soup at a small restaurant in one of the very few villages out here, but the warmth of the broth was long gone. He shivered, zipped his coat all the way up and turned up the heat in the car. Winter was great, but only if you had a cup of tea or hot chocolate and a warm blanket to mummify yourself in. He drove up to the prison. It looked like a fortress from afar and was no less welcoming as you approached. He parked and a guard patted him down for weapons. The same uniformed man took him to a small gray room with chairs and a table. He turned on the radiator and told Izaya to wait. He scooted his chair to the heater as it crackled to life. In a few minutes, a different guard came back with a handcuffed man in tow. As soon as he came, he went, only asking how much time he wanted the prisoner for. They had dinner in an hour and a half, wouldn't want him to miss that. The lawyer assured him that a half an hour would suffice. The two of them were now alone in the room. Heiwajima Shizuo, the supposed killer of a family of three, scooted closer to the radiator. Izaya moved to make room and suddenly became self-conscious of what he was wearing. He hadn't thought too much about it when he was getting dressed, but he was not so certain now. He was wearing an elegant, long-sleeved white shirt, a black, sleeveless V-neck sweater on it, dark jeans and a dark winter coat with ivory faux fur lining the hood, sleeves and bottom hem. _'But it's my favorite coat,'_ he reasoned. He realized that the prison uniform didn't look very warm. He studied the figure before him. It was the same tall, strong man as in the photo, but he looked pale and defeated. Was he sick?

'You don't realize what you had until you don't have it anymore,' they said. But what if everything is taken away suddenly? You would lose your mind as a consequence. Ironic, to lose the last thing you had.

"What are such pretty eyes doing in a place like this?" The blonde broke the silence with an apologetic smile and sadness in his eyes. _'Heh, he noticed my red eyes?'_ he touched his cheek reflexively. "I'm Orihara Izaya, nice to meet you." The lawyer extended his hand in a formal greeting and returned the smile. The hand that met his was coarse and cold. "Woah, you're freezing." Izaya's eyes widened and he hurriedly took his coat off. He offered it to Shizuo, but his worried gaze met an apprehensive and defensive front. "No thanks, keep it." Izaya's outstretched hands and determination wavered for a split second before he replied: "Just for a little while" and stood up, draped it over his shoulders and sat back down. He looked Shizuo in the eye, daring him to protest. Instead, he just sat there, staring at the ground numbly, not moving. _'He smells nice,'_ the blonde could smell from the coat, but instantly regretted it and his distrustful mindset was back. They had twenty-something minutes left and Izaya wanted to talk about the reason of his visit. "I'm here to ask about something. I read a bit, actually more than a bit on your case and I'd like to take it. The lawyer you have now is from the same company, so it wouldn't be a drastic change. I know I'm younger than you, but I'm a pretty good lawyer and I want to be in the defense with you." Shizuo was silent. _'Aaand that was horrible. Worst way to say it. Say something! Anything...'_ Izaya's confidence was weakening with every second of his silence. He finally spoke in a less-than-convincing way: "Sure. Not much to defend though." He sounded as if he'd already given up the fight. Now Izaya was almost positive he had been telling the truth. Then again, nobody sane would want to die. He mentally slapped himself for letting Shizuo's likable demeanor get the best of him so fast.

In 15 minutes, he was walking to the car and shrugging back into his coat. It felt different. To narrow it down, it smelled different. He pressed the faux fur lining closer to his face. One way or another, it was a pleasant, comforting smell. He looked up at the unforgiving, gloomy walls one last time before getting into his car and starting the engine. Keeping his eyes on the road, he thought about his conversation with that blonde gardener. He said to himself: "Well I'll be damned if that isn't the strangest person I've ever talked to." Their communication was mostly small talk and getting to know his soon-to-be client. Shizuo seemed to be shy with strangers and didn't say much during their half an hour together. But Izaya didn't regret visiting the prison at all. In fact, he was sure that he wanted to get involved in this case. It would be hard to talk about that day when Heiwajima Shizuo's fate was sealed; he wasn't exactly talkative and extroverted. Then again, nobody on Death row would be (or so Izaya imagined). During the next few days, the brunette was busier than usual. First thing, he got the case transferred to himself. Next, he found and talked to Shizuo's first degree relatives – his mother and younger brother. This brother, Kasuka, had an apartment in the heart of the city, whereas Shizuo's mother resided in the outskirts. Independently of each other they both told Izaya the same thing: Shizuo was a good guy, although a bit shy. He had problems dealing with people and got into fights over the slightest offence. He was especially strong, so he excelled in high school sports, but was feared by teachers and students alike because of his fiery temper. He did have a few girlfriends, but not recently. They said his main problem seemed to be crowds. If only one or two people were within sight, Shizuo was, I quote, "lively and liked to laugh." Izaya had had a glimpse of this joking, flirty side when they first met. How did he say it? Oh right, he said: "What are such pretty eyes doing in a place like this?" _'Okay, now to piece it together: a shy person who is aggressive when he can't handle a situation, but friendly when in a relatively comfortable environment. Hmm. He certainly has a few fights behind him, but he's never killed someone. Now the only suspect of a triple homicide. Damn it.'_ This wouldn't do. He read the forensic report and how the police thought it happened many times, but it didn't make sense. The killer apparently went inside the house through the back door, which wasn't locked at the time. The murder weapon was identified as hedge trimmers. From the photos they looked sharp and had proven to be deadly to three people. The crime took place between 9:30 and 10am, when the police got a call from no other than the gardener himself. _'Why would he call the police if he just killed a family? This is absurd!'_ He would have to pay Shizuo another visit. He needed to hear his version of the story.

On Thursday, right after work, he bought a sandwich and got into the car. He was driving to that place again, but he had a permit to come see his client whenever. That meant that he could walk in at any time and would be escorted to his cell. He could stay as long as necessary too. And he needed to see him as soon as possible, this couldn't be delayed. He didn't make any stops along the way, so he got there a few minutes before 9pm. _'I have to get him to talk. I can't fight for him if I don't have all the pieces of the puzzle.' _Just as promised, he was escorted to the cell through the building without any delays. The prisoners were a rowdy bunch tonight, all whistling and laughing, obscene remarks and lewd invitations around every corner. It would have been unnerving to Izaya any other day, but his mind was set on a goal and he was fully concentrated, everything else turned down to the level of background noise. You could tell instantly when they reached the prison's section of those awaiting death. It had a different atmosphere and curious, pleading eyes in every cell.

**A/N: I will post the next (and last) part soon, don't worry. :P I would be overjoyed if you took the time to review. :) **


	2. Part 2

**A/N: Ermahgerd you guys are too nice! *tears of joy* Such lovely reviews! *melts* Here's the rest. :D I won't lie, I drew out the plot completely on paper first so I wouldn't get carried away and stray from the original idea. You may have noticed it has certain similarities to Truman Capote's In Cold Blood ****(if you've read it)** because I'm reading that now. Great book, I recommend it. :)

**I do not own these characters.**

A different guard brought a beat-up chair over as the lock clicked open. Heiwajima Shizuo was quietly lying on his back and staring a hole into the ceiling before, but when he saw that he had a visit, he sat up, still not saying a word. Izaya and the chair went in and the lock clicked closed again. "Holler if you need any help" was all the two guards said before returning to their posts. Izaya nodded and sat down on the piece of furniture he got. "Hey." "Hey" the prisoner echoed with a kind undertone. "Sorry I came so late at night," Izaya tried to start the conversation. "It's okay, I didn't have anything planned for now," he raised an eyebrow and curiosity found its way into those dark golden eyes. After a minute, Izaya cut to the chase. "I need to know your side of the story." Shizuo was silent and the lawyer was beginning to fear he would refuse, but he started the story quietly. "Nothing to lose if I tell it again I guess. For me, it was a normal Tuesday morning. I mow the lawn, trim hedges and clip a few trees on Mondays and finish where I left off on Tuesday morning. I had just taken my tools out of the car and was looking to start when I noticed I forgot my hedge trimmers. Mornings are sleepy, all was well, and I just went to the car to get them. Turns out they weren't in the car. It was impossible that I would have left them in Mr. Derron's tool shed; I took them home to clean and sharpen last night. Well, there was no other way, so I got back in the car to go fetch them from my apartment. Left all the other stuff there, it was about 15 minutes there and back." His tone changed from the slightly bored, casual tone to strained and bewildered. "Funny thing was, they weren't at home either. I was starting to think they were stolen or lost forever and it pissed me off. Those trimmers were pretty expensive and great to work with. So I got back with some hope left that they would somehow turn up in the garden or greenhouse, but when I arrived…" He shifted uncomfortably. "Something was off. I went out back, sorta retraced my steps to look for the hedge trimmers, but I noticed the screen door was open. Why would anyone leave it open and let bugs inside? So I went in and there in the kitchen was Mrs. Derron." He covered his face with his hands. "You have no idea. That woman was laying there, lifeless eyes wide open, blood everywhere, I was scared. I tried calling out into the house, but there was an awful silence about the place. I ran right out of there and called 911. Suddenly it was all uniforms, sirens and blinking lights. I can't remember much from then on, I just had to sit down and breathe for a while. It all happened so fast…" Izaya listened closely and studied his posture. _'Is he crying? He can't be.'_ Shizuo's hands dropped into his lap, his tense, petrified expression now revealed. His eyes were glistening with moisture but he bit it back, no use crying now. _'No wonder nobody believed such a story, there's nothing to back it up, is there?'_ "How could I just kill those people? How can anyone take someone's life? Nobody believes me, you know. I admit I tend to let my fists do the talking sometimes, but this is t-" Izaya took his hand gently and looked him in the eye. "I believe you." He paused and Shizuo rubbed his face with one hand, not moving the one touching the brunette's. "It is way too convenient from the way I see it." He suddenly wanted to hug that man. His world fell apart not so differently from Izaya's own. But where Izaya was moping around and not sleeping or eating, Shizuo was facing a death sentence. He felt stronger, this was something that could be changed. He could handle another person's problem better than his own (as it often is).

He stayed a bit longer, they talked about the times of each event and those important questions Izaya wanted to know about earlier. That reserved, almost cold attitude with a caring heart behind it was growing on him. He was confident he could help this handsome convict. He still had doubts as to the truthfulness of his story, but he pushed them to the back of his mind. The truth behind this action was simple – he wanted, no, he _needed_ this to be the way things happened. Not even as an attorney anymore, as a man. Izaya was beginning to fall in love. _'That's ridiculous,'_ he dismissed the sudden want to caress the blonde's cheek and be closer to him. _'Get a hold of yourself, stupid. You can't just fall into the arms of the first good-looking, nice man you find after that asshole left. You can't have stomach butterflies now… _' As he was leaving, Shizuo brought him down to face reality with a tense "Thank you for your time." It was the painful stab of their work-related relationship that called up his hurt expression without warning. He quickly pulled himself together, but Shizuo saw that look in his eyes as he was leaving. _'Is this a face of regret?'_ It surprised him, his lawyer had nothing to regret, right? He lay down on his back again in silent preparationfor the loneliness of the tedious days without a visit from the pale, tantalizing Orihara Izaya. Why did this man care so much? _'And what on earth was that hurt expression for?'_ Shizuo realized he didn't know anything about him except his age, occupation and kind, ruby eyes.

A few months' worth of surveying and studying the gardener's route to and from work finally paid off. The lawyer had hunted down a part-timer from a small convenience store in the neighborhood where the deceased family had lived and thus gained a witness. It was not easy since the young woman had only worked there for a month including the day of the murders and had long since moved to a different city. She had, however, been on speaking terms with the defendant because he stopped by for a snack and soda sometimes. She was taking some goods in and he slowed down to bid her a good morning. She saw him return about 10 minutes later. It was really foolish that nobody else had seen it, but that store had a camera at the entrance. There was footage of the car and driver in both directions. Izaya wanted to laugh. They had gotten one last hearing in court and it hadn't been easy. "What more is there to be said? This case is solved and done. Just the sentence left to be carried out." It had been an unnerving job, but his hard work had paid off. Since that Thursday back in February, he had talked to Shizuo twice. Once to confirm the details about his commute, once to tell him the good news about finding evidence to prove his innocence. That time, he had been told that Shizuo had barely been eating before, but that he had gone back to normal recently. This reminded the brunette of his own situation. Since February, he had persuaded himself into eating three meals a day and eventually the regular five. Before long, he began to enjoy cooking again. Izaya was past the point of no return for some time, he was in love. Even so, he was keeping himself in check so that nobody, including the object of his affection, would know. Little did he know that Shizuo, due to a few tell-tale signs and his own liking for the young lawyer, had seen and correctly interpreted his gestures and facial expressions. When he thought Shizuo wasn't looking, the younger man would gaze at him, a small blush dusting his cheeks and his eyelashes fluttering when the blonde turned to face him again. Nevertheless, he didn't let the petite brunette know. He was taking all of this with a pinch of salt. It was already too good to be true that, if all went well, he would live and be free again. After all, you don't value something before you lose it.

Izaya was thinking too much. _'What does Heiwajima Shizuo think of me? Does he treat me so gently to make me work hard on his case? Am I just a hand to hold through the bars? Forget it, Izaya. Today it ends. He'll be free and that's the end of it.'_ He bit his lip and willed himself to stop tears from forming in his eyes. He was sitting on the steps outside the court house for a breather. There was a short break after the first part for the jury to decide the verdict. Although he was confident about the case, he was distressed about personal matters. _'Just let it go. Big breath! And go,'_ he directed himself, inhaled and walked inside. This wasn't some petty thievery, fraud or a divorce. An innocent man's life was at stake.

Everything was done and decided before the lawyer organized his thoughts. He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and a genuine smile lit up his anxious features. Not because he had won a case, but because he wouldn't be able to face himself if this man were to die. He looked around and saw Shizuo's mother crying with relief. The defendant himself was hugging his brother. He then turned to Izaya and they shook hands, exchanging words of gratitude. When he got out of the building, Izaya had mixed feelings of relief, happiness and melancholy. _'We won, I'm happy,_' he convinced himself, but he couldn't shake the gloomy feeling no matter how much he smiled.

The next day, he went to work as usual. Everyone was happy for him and his colleagues were planning a party at the end of the week, but the one concerned was fairly listless. Although he was determined to fight this feeling, he had to admit he would miss seeing Shizuo. He didn't have time to mope around, his schedule for the day was full. He had to attend a conference at a big hotel on the other side of the city, so he didn't have time to go to lunch as he would usually. The presenters were dull and after the talks were over, he didn't especially care for the tables of food or the people who wanted to shake his hand and say "Good job!" He excused himself and went to the restroom to wash his face and check if his suit and tie were still good after all that sitting. He dried his face and looked in the mirror. The reflection that stared back looked like someone who lost a case rather than won it. He slapped his cheeks gently and smiled for practice. He was walking back to the conference room, not really paying attention to his surroundings, when he heard a voice in front of him. "What are such pretty eyes" he knew that voice! "…doing in a place like this?" His wide eyes snapped to the man who had just stopped in front of him. It was no one other than Heiwajima Shizuo. Izaya stared at him, unable to say a word. His resolve to move on, to forget the man in front of him was crumbling down like the walls of Jericho. He was wearing a formal, elegant tuxedo. His hair was messy in a way that made Izaya bite his lip and he was smiling gently and sincerely. He read Izaya's silent question _'What are you doing here?'_ from his eyes and said: "You left so quickly yesterday, I never really got a chance to thank you. I don't know how to repay you. You actually saved my life." Izaya was still shocked to see the gorgeous blonde, but he found his voice now. "I… have to go," he motioned to the conference hall timidly, not once breaking eye contact. "Then will you at least give me your number?" Izaya stood no chance against Shizuo's pleading gaze. "All right," he said and pulled out his business card. He flipped it around and scrawled a few numbers on the back. He placed the piece of paper in the blonde's hand, explaining: "That's my personal number." He tapped the card lightly. He was beginning to process what just happened and he walked to the conference room door. He opened it and looked back at the former convict, smiling teasingly. "See you around then, Heiwajima Shizuo," he said and closed the door behind himself. Shizuo's heart skipped a beat at that smile and promise and he leaned on the wall behind him. "Not all things have come to an end."

**A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review! :)**

**I am very sorry, I know I promised an epilogue, but I'm on hiatus cause of school and I currently have zero time off to write.**


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